


Dave and the Ouija Board of Dicks

by maria_j_harper



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aradia Megido/Dave Strider pale romance, Bad rapping, Dave is a dork, Ghostly!Karkat, Humanstuck, Multi, swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2215245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_j_harper/pseuds/maria_j_harper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenagers messing with a Ouija board on Halloween night.<br/>Dave has a Ouija board and convinces Aradia that they should totes mess with it for shits 'n giggles, despite her protests ('cause that stuff will haunt you). To their surprise, their supernatural encounter is very interesting more so than scary ...But mostly interesting for Dave because he is a dork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dave and the Ouija Board of Dicks

“No.”  
“Yes!”  
“No!”  
“Yes.”  
“I am not doing this Dave, do you know how dangerous it is to meddle in the spirit realms?”  
“It’s a Ouija board Rads, not a demonic summoning circle. I’m not asking you to summon arcane magycs here, just to indulge my twelve-year-old sense of humor as I once again use my novelty shop trinket to ironically answer questions from “The Great Beyond.” I know that you actually believe in that kind of stuff, but this is just a kids toy. What are you afraid of, that the ghost will make us draw shitty fanart?”  
Aradia sighs. “Alright, but don’t blame me if you anger the spirits and they seek revenge.”  
“Yes!” You fetch your Ouija board from the cupboard where you keep it. It is made of figured maple and covered in arcane ruins and then glitter, for ironic purposes. You place it on the floor and sit with one leg under you, the other splayed out. You take the triangular marker and put it in the middle of the board. You touch it with just the tips of your fingers.  
Aradia sits down across from you and puts the tips of her fingers on the marker. “I can’t believe you’re getting me to do this.” She complains.  
“Spirits, is Aradia being a great big worrywart, as well as a little child who poops hard in her baby diaper?” You ask. You push the marker towards the part of the board with the word “Yes.”  
Aradia gives you a look. “Very funny. No really, my fragile frame can barely contain my gales of hilarity,” she says flatly.  
“Aradia, Rads, Radical girl, chill. Okay, you’re right, enough joking around.” You move the marker back to the center. “Alright, let’s both concentrate. Spirits from the beyond far and near, heed us now and come to us here.” You light a candle you’d been holding onto for this moment and put it on the floor. “A light here to guide your way, tell us now what you have to say. Drop upon us the wisdom your death begot drop it, oh drop it, drop it like it’s hot.”  
“Dave, I don’t think the spirits appreciate rap the way you do.”  
“It was the rhyming! How could I resist?” You protest to her scolding. “Anyways, ill rhymes regardless, tell us, oh spirits, are you with us?”  
You push the marker gently to the “Yes” mark.  
“You’re still pushing it!” Aradia accuses.  
“Am not. Watch. Spirits, if you’re there, tell us: What do you miss most about the afterlife?”  
You nudge the marker, slowly, gently around the alphabet on the board. “D-I-C-K-S. Wow, those are some filthy spirits, maybe you’re right Aradia!”  
“I’m leaving. I’m done.” She says, getting up.  
You stand up, walking after her. “Aradia! No! What about the Ouija board of dick? Oh come on!”  
She starts to walk away. Suddenly, the lights flicker and you hear a scraping sound. You turn to see that the marker is moving on its own. The candle, you see, is flaring. The marker goes to the capital letters, and stays there. It spells out “FUCK OFF, ASSWIPE.” It even uses the punctuation symbols.  
You laugh.  
“Okay, fair enough, I was being a total douche muffin there. It’s like someone took me and turned me into a muffin and then sprinkled me liberally with douche, and that someone was, somewhat paradoxically, me. So, you’re a real ghost, huh?”  
“NO FUCKING DUH, SHITBRAIN,” says the board.  
“Rads, you seeing this shit?”  
Aradia nods shakily. “Spirit, where did you come from? What’s the afterlife like? Is there a god? I have so many questions!”  
The marker remains still for a moment. Then it spells out a single four letter word. “HELL.”  
“Shit. Okay, it’s weird just calling you ‘spirit’ all the time. You got a name?” You say.  
“KARKAT.”  
“It’s nice to meetcha Karkat. This is Aradia, and I’m Dave,” you respond amiably. “So… how come I’ve never been able to talk to a ghost before?”  
“YOU MADE ME ANGRY. GHOSTS HAVE MORE STRENGTH WHEN THEY’RE ANGRY. THEY HAVE THE POWER TO DO MORE. I’M A YOUNG ENOUGH GHOST THAT I CAN’T MOVE THIS MARKER, OR ANYTHING CORPOREAL UNLESS I’M FUCKING FURIOUS. THE OLDER GHOSTS JUST DON’T CARE.”  
“You sure do talk a lot for such a supposedly weak ghost.” You had to start writing things down to get all of that last message, luckily Aradia had a paper and pencil handy.  
“YES.” Karkat actually spelled out Y-E-S in all-caps rather than settling for the pre-inscribed “Yes.”  
“Why do I get the feeling that this ghost Karkat was even more ornery when it was alive?” you mutter to Aradia.  
“I WAS. AND FYI, I’M A ‘HE,’ NOT AN ‘IT.’”  
“Good to know. So Karkat, what are you doing this Saturday?”  
“I’M DEAD. I’M NOT DOING SHIT, SATURDAY OR ANY OTHER DAY. WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK I CARE ENOUGH TO WASTE MY TIME TALKING TO COCKSUCKERS LIKE YOU?”  
“Harsh.”  
“Dave, stop flirting ironically with dead people,” Aradia scolds you.  
You smirk. “Who says it’s ironically?” you say, voice low.  
“I DO. WHO THE HELL FLIRTS UNIRONICALLY WITH A DEAD GUY? NECROPHILIA IS NOT A THING THAT I’M INTO, THANKS.”  
“Okay. Well what do people usually ask when they’re dicking around with Ouija boards? Are you happy in the afterlife? You answered that one pretty accurately. Oh hey, you want to see some of my art?” You take out some of your Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff concept art. “Check out my sweet comic yo!”  
“THAT IS UNBELIEVABLY SHITTY.”  
“Yes, but ironically so. Besides, I doubt you could do any better.”  
“YOU’RE RIGHT. MY INABILITY TO LIFT A PENCIL AUTOMATICALLY MAKES YOU A SUPERIOR ARTIST.”  
“I could hold a pencil for you and you could guide my hand or some shit.”  
“NO WAY, YOU’D JUST DRAW MORE MALE GENITALIA.”  
“He knows you too well Dave,” Aradia teases.  
By the time dawn breaks, you still have more questions than answers. How had Karkat died? Why wasn’t he at peace? Why had he chosen to contact you, of all people? And possibly most importantly, does he like you? Because in the long evening hours you spent conversing, you’d managed to develop quite a crush on the snarky ghost.  
You don’t mind too much when your electronics go haywire anymore, because it means that a ghost is near; and the ghost, when you pull out your board to talk to it, is always Karkat. Well okay, there was one time when it wasn't, but that's a story you'd rather not get into. You still can't look at a horse without gagging a little.


End file.
